Saturday, December 31, 2016

2016 waiting on 2017

It has been a dreary, rainy day. The sun hasn't made an appearance, even for a few minutes.

I have wandered in and out of the living room, glancing occasionally at LSU playing their bowl game against Washington. It hasn't held my attention. The husband lays stretched out on the sofa, iPad clasped between his hands, an occasional eye on the game.

I hurriedly showered and dressed this morning as I have for the past two weeks. My 81 yr. old neighbor lives a few blocks away with her son. She has had major surgery and is very weak and refuses to take her medicines. Her son has no experience with caring for a sick person so I make a trip to their home every morning and evening. I encourage fluids, food and insist on her taking  her medications. Her short term memory is now but a memory but not to her. She can recall events from her past but finishing a sentence is a chore for her. I spend some time every trip educating  her son on his mother's illness. He still doesn't quite comprehend how ill she is. I caution him against leaving her alone in the house. He thinks if he is sleeping in his bedroom, immediate supervision is not needed.

Today she attempted to climb upon a chair to do some dusting of a shelf that hangs on the wall above  the dining table. I exchanged looks with him after noticing the chair out of place against that wall. Tomorrow morning I will have another conversation with him regarding her safety.

Before visiting this evening, I made some chicken salad and chicken soup. She is very frail and has no appetite. I try to bring her something that might entice her to eat. We are up to a half a sandwich in the morning and now in the evening. A BOOST drink is offered with her meals and in between. I asked her son to offer her food every two hours and to not expect her to eat a normal serving.

This afternoon the storm that was predicted had arrived. Amid the firecrackers and fireworks, the rain slashed through the afternoon, leaving lightning and sporadic rolls of thunder. The sky's percussion section was in session.

Racing from my carport to the car, the fat rain drops pelted my shoulders. A few blocks later and I was at my neighbor's house administering to her needs, returning home in a continuing downpour.

More football, a plate of cheese and a glass of champagne, the husband and I  each claimed a sofa and our wine to wait  for midnight. I think we will make it to midnight tonight to welcome in the new year.  2017, you are almost here. I have many reasons to be apprehensive about the coming year. I'm going to wait it out, hope for the best and tolerate what is to be.
Happy New we go!

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